Falling Petals
by TriedNTrue
Summary: A new girl enters Domino High School, discovering a longlost friend thought dead and forging new friendships. When the Battle City tournament begins, they both find their destinies unraveling.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: We don't own Yu-gi-oh, but if we did...well, it would be all about Kaiba and Bakura! And wouldn't that be awesome! Anyway, this is our first fanfic, so be nice. All reviews are accepted, except for flames. No one benefits from flames! But please, leave reviews! We really appreciate it!

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Ravyn sighed and brushed a lock of jet black hair away from her face, focusing on sidestepping boxes and duffel bags to bring in even more boxes and duffel bags. The moving men had taken care of large, heavy pieces, like furniture, but her parents were cheap and weren't willing to pay them to bring in things Ravyn could manage on her own. They could certainly afford to pay the moving men for another hour, maybe two – it couldn't take longer than that to unload everything, especially for six big, strong men – but they always said they didn't become rich by throwing away money when they didn't have to. Which didn't stop them from buying everything under the sun and vanishing whenever there was work to be done around the house, of course. She wasn't sure where her parents had run off to, but they had left her to unload the family cars.

She bit back a curse as she tripped, nearly dropping her burdens. The spacious house had become a convoluted maze, with only a few open paths to follow. She had never realized they owned quite so much _stuff_! It had taken her a good half an hour to almost fully unload one SUV, and there were two more jam packed with things just begging to be brought into the house.

Winding her way up the stairs, Ravyn threaded her way into her bedroom, dropping her bags onto her unmade bed. She paused to catch her breath, storm gray eyes scanning her room. She was pleased with it – though compared to her last room, the closet space was merely adequate – but she was tired of constantly moving and switching schools and never making any friends. It made no sense to her – her parents were never home, so why did they feel the need to buy a new house every year if they rarely lived in it? And why couldn't they move somewhere _interesting_ for once instead of ragtag towns and unheard of cities? Did they ever take the feelings of their only daughter into consideration?

Of course not. What a silly question.

Tired of hauling things and frustrated by the lack of help, Ravyn closed her door and sprawled out across her bare mattress, knocking a few boxes onto the floor. It felt good to relax for a minute, to rest muscles already protesting the abuse she put them through. Her eyes slowly drifted closed, thick lashes caressing her delicate, soft pale skin. She had very nearly fallen asleep when the sound of someone knocking on the door startled her into full consciousness.

"Ravyn, honey? Can we come in?" Her mother's voice was precise, cultured, with an almost musical quality to it. She had won her husband's heart with a song – a tale so romantic it made Ravyn giddy and teary-eyed – and hints of her talent were evident in every word she said. She always claimed her daughter had inherited her singing voice, but Ravyn had never been so sure.

Feeling a little irritated – odds were, they hadn't emptied anything out of the cars – she replied, a little too loudly, "Yeah, sure."

Her door opened and her parents stepped into the room, looking as different as night and day. Her mother, slim-necked and elegant, had full dark hair falling to her waist, the ends curling naturally; her eyes were a beautiful honey with flecks of lilac, her brows precise lines above her thick lashes; perfect nose, perfect chin, perfect figure. Everything about her spoke of perfection, the type of woman songs and fairy tales had been written for. Tall and slender, always clad in tones that brought out the lilac in her eyes, or the hint of red in her hair, she looked far younger than her years, and her husband had often called her the "perfect little prize". Ravyn had always felt inadequate around her, both because of her looks and because of her talents. Ravyn could play the piano, but she couldn't sing like her mother; she could play Duel Monsters like a champion, but she couldn't sew a straight line to save her life, or cook a three-course meal, or paint a portrait. Though she never said it, she could tell her mother thought her a failure. Ravyn was never able to live up to the dream her mother pitted her against.

Ravyn's father, on the other hand, was a little on the short side, stout but strong, his arms corded with muscles – _muscles that should have been put to use carrying boxes_, she thought grimly – and his hair was the color of sunlight in sand, his eyes a merry blue of an undistinguished shade. He had always doted on his daughter, providing her with everything she had ever wanted – within reason; he'd never heard her pleas to stay in one town for longer than a year – and called her his "beautiful little star". He had cute nicknames for just about everybody he met and liked, though few ever stuck for very long. Though his talent in Duel Monsters was small, he still took the time to play with her and support her, buying her any card she wanted. After all, he'd always said, it was a better hobby than drinking or prostitution.

And of course, he had been there when she'd lost her best friend.

For a brief moment, tears filled her eyes, darkening them nearly to black, but she quickly blinked them away. She was usually in control of her emotions, at least so far as to be able to avoid crying in front of people. It had been years, however, and the wound was still raw. She sometimes woke from dreams still feeling the heat of the flames against her skin, still hearing the agonized screams.

"What do you want?" she asked, a little too testily.

Her parents exchanged a look, and for a moment, she was afraid she'd slipped too far – that they had seen how upset she was, how she was still floundering in an attempt to grasp something to help her heal, and once again they would try to insist that she see a psychiatrist. She'd made it clear to them on many occasions that she had no desire to open her heart to a complete stranger who only wanted to overmedicate her and receive a hefty paycheck for the trouble.

Luckily, she had misread them.

"Sweetie, I know we missed your birthday last month," her mother began, kneeling by her bed as if in supplication. Even that was done with grace, with art, as if at a great performance; it made her sick.

"Glad somebody finally noticed." Her tone was rather dry. That had been a particularly lonely birthday, spent only with the few friends she'd manage to gather around her. Her parents had been off gallivanting in Egypt and had entirely forgotten about her, as they always did. She'd lost track of the number of holidays she spent staring at her own reflection.

Her father knew her better, could read her face like a book, and realized that his wife was not welcome there. Clearing his throat, he said, "Little star, we were thinking about you, contrary to what you believe. We picked something up for you, but we were saving it for the perfect time to give it to you…"

"My birthday would have been a good choice."

Her mother's mouth tightened and she shot a look over to her husband, eyes flashing dramatically. Ravyn ignored her.

"Yes, well…I apologize for that." He extended his hand, a small, wrapped box nestled in his palm. "Here. Happy Belated Sweet Sixteen, my beautiful little star."

Feeling oddly hesitant, she took the box, a small smile threatening to spread across her face. Last year, they hadn't gotten her anything and hadn't realized until Christmas. They thought that giving her a Mercedes would soothe her hurts, forgetting that she didn't even know how to drive. She felt almost as if this were a peace offering, though she knew better than to get her hopes up.

Tossing her hair over her shoulder, the blue highlights catching the rays of the sun streaming through her open window, she slowly plucked at the expensive paper, eventually tearing into it as if it were no more than newspaper. It made a satisfying sound as it ripped, and she casually tossed the pieces aside, "accidentally" showering her mother with them. She made a disgusted sound – one would thing she was doused with excrement rather than paper – and quickly stood up, backing away.

The wrapping fell away to reveal a small, shiny wooden box, strange symbols etched on the outside. She traced her fingers over the symbols, her head tilting to one side; she could almost read them, almost understand them, as if an old, dusty part of her recognized and had often used these very same odd letters. She stared at them for a few minutes, eyes shifting color as sunlight streamed over them and then fled, feeling as if the symbols were speaking to her, whispering in ancient tongues and practically thrumming with power.

She saw herself in her mind's eye – a tanned, scrawnier version of herself, looking wild and dangerous. She was in a desert, standing near a white horse that she knew didn't belong to her, though she held its reins as it drank from one of the desert's rare water pools. Sparse, wiry vegetation grew around the pool, and she was idly poking at it with a foot when she suddenly looked up, staring towards the horizon with a look of horror. Someone was coming closer, someone – or a great many people – she was fleeing from. A sense of panic gripped her so hard she gasped.

Suddenly, it was gone; all of it. It was just a cold, wooden box in her hands, and the vision fled as if it had never existed, like an old, nearly forgotten dream. The silence was so thick she could almost feel it resting upon her skin.

Her father broke the spell entirely. "Aren't you going to open it?"

Her fingers trembled for some reason as she opened the box, lifting the lid carefully. Inside lay a simple, thin golden anklet, nondescript save for a stylized Eye of Horus near where she assumed was the center of the chain; she had nothing but the clasp to go by. Though small, it had an antique look to it, and must have cost her parents a fortune.

Not that they didn't have spare cash lying around.

"It's beautiful," she breathed as she lifted it out, the delicate metal catching the light. For a moment the eye winked at her, clearly a trick of the light, before returning to cold metal.

"We got it in a bazaar," her mother put in proudly, as if she had trekked dozens of miles on foot to find a hidden marketplace to purchase her daughter's present. "As soon as I saw it, I knew you had to have it."

"It's a one-of-a-kind," her father said kindly, smiling over at his wife and sharing in her pride.

That didn't surprise her. Almost every piece of jewelry she owned were custom made, one-of-a-kind items. It had gotten to the point where she took it for granted.

Smiling finally, the motion lighting up her face, she leaned back against her headboard and propped her ankle up on her opposite knee. Undoing the delicate clasp of the anklet, she draped the chain over her ankle and snapped the clasp closed. It sounded louder than it should have, but she chalked that up to her imagination. She had been moving heavy boxes in rather warm weather, after all.

"I love it," she declared after staring at it for a few minutes.

"I'm glad." Her father walked over, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. "Now, your mother and I are leaving for Tuscany tomorrow morning…"

"What!"

"…and I want to make sure you have everything you need to start school."

"When was this planned?"

"Didn't we tell you?" He glanced over at his wife, who casually looked the other way.

"No!"

"We'll be gone for six weeks, possibly more."

Her voice took on a whining tone. "But why, daddy? You have only been home for a week now!" Just the amount of time it took to tell her they were moving, and to pack everything up and ship it to another strange, unwelcome place. She didn't think their old house had even sold yet.

"I know, my pretty star, but I do need to work every once in a while. They called me to Italy, and your mother will be going with me."

_Thank goodness_. Only once had he ever left his wife with his daughter; that had ended in disaster.

"As usual, there's plenty of money in the bank account, and cash in the safe downstairs. If you ever need us, you have my cell phone number, and when we arrive I'll call with the hotel information. We've already hired a maid service to take care of the cleaning, and we can hire a cook as well if you wish. I remember you liked the last one."

Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks again, but she still refused to give in. Turning her face away, she murmured, "Fine. Go. I want to be alone."

"Little star…"

"I said go!"

So that's why they'd given her the present now. So well timed, an expensive attempt to make up for their near-constant absence. She was on the verge of breaking, she knew; any moment she would burst into tears, and she didn't want them to see their not-so-perfect little daughter become red-faced and blotchy. Her mother always bragged that she could cry and still look pretty, but Ravyn didn't have the coloring for it.

She heard them murmur something to each other, too quiet to pick up, and then they were gone, the door closing quietly behind them. Reaching out to her nightstand, one of the few places where she had already unpacked things and put them away, she grabbed a small framed picture and clasped it to her chest as she buried her face in the mattress and cried.

* * *

She didn't see them off the next morning; they left before the sun had risen, while Ravyn was still asleep. She'd used the last of her energy to push the boxes off her bed and find her sheets and comforter and pillows, making her bed and crawling into the blankets in exhaustion, putting off unpacking the other cars for another day. She'd awoken to the sound of birds chirping outside of her window, the sound soothing and pleasant.

Rolling onto her side, she looked around for her alarm clock before remembering that she hadn't even unpacked it yet. Growling in frustration, she snatched at her watch and squinted at it. It was late morning, and while a part of her didn't want to get up, she knew it would be best to finish unloading and begin unpacking. Besides, she needed to find her bath items so she could take a shower, and then she had to go shopping for her school supplies. Her first day of class was coming up a little too quickly for her, but it wouldn't do to be unprepared.

She slowly got out of bed, yawning and stretching. She'd been too tired to change, and her outfit was wrinkled beyond belief, but her parents weren't home so she didn't care. She would drop everything off at the dry cleaner's later that day or maybe tomorrow.

She began unpacking the boxes already in her room, putting empty hangers in her closet and setting out hairbrushes and figurines on her desk. When she came to her clothes, she laboriously shook them out, setting aside the ones that needed ironing and hanging up the others. It was well past noon when her stomach finally stopped her.

She was pleased to see that her parents had at least left the cabinets and the fridge well stocked. Making a quick meal of chicken cacciatore and angel hair pasta, she felt rejuvenated, and began transferring things from the cars into the house. Almost too late, she realized she'd forgotten to put the leftovers in the fridge, and she paused to despair the loss of such a delicious meal. She didn't mourn long.

It was night by the time she finished, far too late to go shopping, and she ached too much to go anywhere anyway. She indulged herself with a lavender oil bath in the massive bathtub in the bathroom connected to her room, lighting a few dozen candles and flicking the lights off. It was a fire hazard, but she was always careful around fire.

Sleep came to her easily, and the next day was spent unpacking and cleaning around the house a little – something that she had always found soothing, keeping her hands busy while her mind was free to roam, though her mother refused to touch a cleaning cloth – and taking a taxi downtown to buy her school supplies. Her uniform arrived in the mail, luckily, though she wrinkled her nose in distaste as soon as she saw it. Who had thought to pair that shade of pink with that awful boring blue? Still, she tried it on anyway, eyeing herself in the mirror critically.

It didn't look half bad on her, she decided after a while. It didn't hide her mature bosom, or her pert behind, and her legs looked rather shapely against that shade of blue. The bow left much to be desired, and she still thought the pink was hideous, but there wasn't anything to be done about it. She'd refused to wear the uniform in a previous school and had been rather harshly disciplined for it. She didn't know if Domino High was as rigid with its rules, but she wasn't about to find out.

She fell asleep that night in front of their gigantic flat-screen television, one of her favorite movies running.

* * *

The morning of the first day of school was hectic for Ravyn. It took her absolutely forever to get ready, because she had to look perfect. Some time was saved since she did not have to laboriously choose an outfit, but she just could not figure out how to do her hair to make herself still look presentable in that hideous school uniform. When she could not find her favorite perfume, she nearly threw a tantrum, her stormy eyes darkening with tears. She eventually uncovered it – tossed in one of her drawers, beneath a few dozen photographs of herself and her old friends.

She made herself a quick breakfast of pancakes and bacon, mentally reminding herself to take her parents up on their offer and hire herself a maid and a cook. After all, she couldn't possibly be expected to maintain the entire house, cook for herself, and still keep her grades up. It was unthinkable.

By the time she was finally ready to leave for school, she felt oddly reluctant. She looked around her spacious living room, backpack over her shoulder, shoes on her feet, and felt an almost physical pressure pushing her down, keeping her in the living room. The golden anklet felt warm against her skin, and she bit her lip, wondering what was causing the ominous feeling.

"Well, I can't stay home," she said aloud, breaking the irritating silence in the house. That was one thing she never really got used to – the constant silence. Even when it was broken up by the sound of the television, or the beat of her favorite music group, it seemed large and empty and silent, making her feel alone. Shivering, she rubbed her arms and left, heading towards school.

There were many students on the streets, walking towards Domino High as well, and she carefully studied them as she walked, head held high. They seemed normal, like students in her other school, though occasionally one had an expensive, designer backpack, or something similar to denote their status. They were few and far between though, and strangely enough, that made her feel a little more comfortable.

She got lost in the hallways, never having expected the school to be so big. She finally had to poke her head into one of the classrooms and ask directions from the teacher, cheeks flaring a pretty pink. They were even darker now as she stood in front of her class, waiting for the teacher and watching everyone make their way inside. No one gave her more than a second glance, which made her fume internally – she'd gone out of her way to make herself exceptionally pretty and no one appreciated it! – but she decided to give them time. After all, sometimes people were wary of strangers.

When a familiar head popped into the room however, her breath left her as quickly as if she had been hit in the stomach. Eyes growing wide, her lips parted, she stared incredulously. Memories assaulted her, making her grow faint, and she had to lean on the teacher's desk or risk falling to the ground. When her breathing finally returned to normal, she shook her head, almost as if denying what she saw.

It couldn't be.

"Ravyn?" she girl asked curiously, staring at her with just as much surprise as Ravyn herself felt.

"Erika?" she replied, feeling as if someone were constricting her chest. It couldn't be her, it just couldn't! In her mind's eye, she saw the framed picture she'd put up at her bedside, of herself at a young, tender age with another girl, her then best friend. Erika. Who had died.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," the girl quipped, and Ravyn could only stare.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: OMG! FIVE REVIEWS! Thanks you guys! Your all so nice and stuff! this is great, we're so stoked! hope you like this next chapter, and don't forget to read and review, k thnx!

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Erika Jade was amused. Beyond amused, actually. "Do close your mouth, Ravyn. You're going to swallow a bug." She flipped flame-red hair over her shoulder, a smirk firmly in place on her face. "Did you miss me?" 

She was hardly surprised when the other girl hugged her tightly. "But… I thought you were dead!"

"I was. It was boring." Erika shrugged slim shoulders and leaned back in her chair. "What are you doing here, Ravyn?"

"I'm going to school." Erika could tell that she wasn't too happy with the situation. "What about you?"

"The same." Erika stretched, yawning delicately. "It's horribly dull, though. Nothing ever happens around here." Her expression grew haunted. "In school, anyway…"

Ravyn frowned and hugged her friend tightly. "What's wrong? Talk to me."

"Not here." Erika shook her head. "This isn't a good place."

"Why not?" Ravyn's frown deepened. "What's wrong? What's going on? Why aren't you dead?"

"Nice to know you care," Erika said, a touch dryly. "Well, as for why I'm not dead… well, that's a long story."

!&# (Flashback!)!(#&)!)

I'd always thought I was normal. Totally normal, without any doubt about it. But it turns out that that's not the case at all. I remember when I found out just how abnormal I was.

I knew Daddy was some kind of special guy. But he wouldn't tell me anything more than that. Something about ancient evils and that sort of stuff. Anyway, that day that you said I died, the day of the fire… that wasn't an accident, Ravyn. I caused that fire.

I didn't mean to. I was just… playing around. And… it happened. It just exploded in my face. I don't even know what I did. One minute I was just trying to get out, the next minute, everything was on fire. I'm sure it wasn't the car crash. Even the policeman said that it shouldn't have been the crash.

It was me… and everyone thought I was dead, nothing but ash, they said.

They were wrong, Ravyn, so wrong! The next day, I woke up, and I was so beautiful… It was like I'd dyed my hair all flame-colored, and those ugly freckles I'd had were gone!

It was wonderful. And I had memories of flying; I think I was a bird, Ravyn. Isn't that funny? You're the one with the name like a bird, but I _am_ a bird, Ravyn, isn't that odd?

Remember? Remember the time we were playing with Barbies, and I melted that one? That's like this. I'm magic, Ravyn. That's why I didn't die in the fire… that's why I lived.

I'm a _pheonix_.

)#&(#()End flashback!()#(&

Erika looked tired now, more tired than she'd felt like in a long time. "That's why I'm still alive. I don't know what to do now, though."

"But you're alive!" Ravyn took her hands. "We can be best friends again!"

"No, no we can't…" Erika pulled her hands back. "Don't touch me, Ravyn… or he'll know, he'll get upset…"

"Who will?" Ravyn asked, her expression one of utmost concern. "Who? Erika, that's not like you, you're not afraid of _anyone_, ever! Especially not some guy!"

"This guy's different, Ravyn," Erika told her, shivering. "This guy's really different, and really scary."

"How can he be scarier than someone who could burn him to a crisp?" Ravyn snorted.

"He's rich… he's powerful… no one can escape him." Erika whispered, her eyes on the floor.

"Who?" Ravyn was disturbed to see her friend this way. "Who is it, Erika?"

"Seto Kaiba." Erika murmured, shivering. "He's… he's… he's decided that I'm the best thing since sliced bread, and he wants me forever and ever… and I don't know why, and nothing I do works. I try to tell him I'm not interested… and when he doesn't take no for an answer, I try to get to be gentle and kind and it never works… never… he always hurts me…"

Ravyn couldn't believe it. Her friend, her best friend, was not only alive, but in a relationship with the hottest and richest man in Japan? "Wow, I can't decide if I want to be jealous or really scared."

"Be really scared." Erika said quietly. "Be really, really scared. Seto… he's so scary, and he's… he's so strong… I can't stop him."

"So fry him." Ravyn, ever practical, shrugged. "He deserves it."

"I can't do that!" Erika looks horrified at the very thought. "I could never! I refuse to use my powers against someone, unless they tried to kill me!"

"And he doesn't try to kill you?" Ravyn raised an eyebrow.

"Just… just once." Erika rubbed her throat a bit. "I… it was the first time he decided he wanted me…"

Ravyn shivered. "Does… does he…"

"Yeah." Erika just nodded. "Yeah… It's… not fun. Every night… he… he says it's his right…"

"Well it isn't." Ravyn said firmly. "I'm telling you. We're going to stop it here and now."

"You can't." Erika said, the light dying from her eyes. "No one can. I'm sorry, Ravyn… but… we can see each other when he's not around in school." She tried to smile, and it almost worked. "I promise."

Ravyn wasn't at all happy. This wasn't what she'd expected when she saw her best friend, who wasn't dead. "Come on, Erika, I want to help you!"

"Just leave it alone, Ravyn. Please." Erika sighed and shook her head, then tried to smile. "So… it's… your birthday soon, right? What're you doing for it?"

Ravyn smiled and opened her mouth to say something, when someone cleared their throat behind her. Jumping slightly, she turned, blinking at the younger boy standing there. "Yes?"

"'Scuse me, but I've got to get Miss Erika home." The boy glanced at Ravyn and thought how pretty she was. "Big brother wants to see her…"

Erika shivered. "Right, Mokuba… I guess we should go."

Ravyn grabbed her arm. "Erika, it's not safe… I don't think you should go."

"If I don't, it's only worse for me." Erika's voice was very soft, very quiet, and she looked away. "I'm sorry, Ravyn. I'm sure I'll be able to come to school tomorrow. I'll talk to you then."

"But Erika…" Ravyn watched, almost horrified as the boy led her best friend off. _This can't be real… it can't be! Erika's not like that, she's strong and capable, and I'm sure she'd be able to fry him like she fried the Barbie and the car… Why won't she?_

Brooding, she settled back in her desk, ignoring the teacher as she started class, intent on figuring out this puzzle.

-

_I thought he worked today,_ Erika thought as she quietly walked into Kaiba mansion. _I thought I was safe for a day. Why aren't I?_

She shivered as Mokuba gave her a sympathetic look, and wandered off to go to his tutor. Taking a few deep breaths, she headed up the stairs, squaring her shoulders. _I'm not afraid, see? Not afraid._ She knocked on the door, then opened it. "You wanted to see me?"

Seto was sitting behind his desk, scowling at his computer. He didn't even look up as she came in. "Sit down, I'll get to you in a moment."

Erika did sit, folding her hands in her lap. She didn't understand how he could be like this, how he could be so mean. She hadn't done anything to him, ever. Just because Gozaburo-sama had liked her more, and thought she was better, didn't mean that once he was dead, Seto could take over and make her his plaything!

She curled up tightly, remembering how he'd pawed her, pinned her down and used her. It hadn't been pleasant, like the girls at school said it would be. He just hadn't seemed to care.

_It isn't fair. I'm beautiful, smart, and kind, and he won't see any of that!_

She sighed and shivered, glancing at Seto. _And he killed Father… I know he did… Someday I'll prove it, and he'll go to jail, and I'll be in the right! I'll be where Father wanted me to be, running the company like he wanted me to._

Seto glanced at her and stood, gesturing for her stand up. He took in her appearance, in the little pink school uniform, the short skirt showing off her long, slender, shapely legs, her flame-colored hair cut short and layered, framing her face. She was pretty, he thought, smirking faintly. Just right to his tastes.

He slipped out of his coat (A/N: the purple one, that's his "work" coat, tee hee) and moved over to her. "So, you finally learned to come when I call, hmm?"

Erika looked at him, pouring every bit of possible attraction she could muster into her gaze. "Of course, Kaiba-sama… I wouldn't dream of doing anything else."

Seto merely snorted, pushing her back to the couch. "Yes, good. Though I doubt you're telling me the truth, I suppose it hardly matters." He trailed a hand through her hair. "Lovely," he murmured, eyes half-closing. "You need to grow it out again. Stupid girl, to cut it just to spite me."

Erika hugged herself tightly and tried not to push him away. "I wanted to cut it. I'm my own person, you know."

"Not anymore." Seto smirked, trailing a finger down her face. "Now you belong to me, the same as this company."

"If Father could see you now," Erika began, anger coloring her cheeks and voice. She got no further, as Seto backhanded her across the face sharply, his own expression becoming wrathful.

"He's dead, and what's more, I'm glad for it." He hissed, pinning her down to the couch. "I was going to be nice today, gentle… but you ruined your chance."

"NO!" Erika struggled, shoving at him. "Leave me alone! Let me go!"

"Shut up." Seto's eyes were cold, hard chips of ice as he smacked her, then started working on getting the top of her school uniform undone. "I'll have to make you wear this more often. It's nice."

"Noooooooooo, stop, let me go!" She didn't want this, she couldn't just lay there quietly anymore, not after seeing Ravyn. She wanted to be like she had been before; strong, independent, capable. Before all this, she'd been the smartest girl in Japan, set to be the richest and most powerful too. But all that has changed, and she can't stop it. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all!

"No one's going to hear you, and even if they do, no one's going to help you." Seto smirked and his trailed bites down her neck. "So do me a favor, and stop screaming. It annoys me."

Erika's eyes filled with tears, and she fell silent, unable to do anything else by lay there and watch him. She tried to become detached, but it didn't work, and it hurt so badly that she couldn't think.

_Oh, Ravyn… help me, please…_


End file.
